


eden

by astronomii



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Drabble, Gen, I don't know where I was going with this, One-Sided Attraction, Short One Shot, some book iii spoilers but nothing major
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 05:01:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16947486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astronomii/pseuds/astronomii
Summary: Only fools would bother dancing with death.





	eden

You thought you were close to death when you had been trapped on the other side of the portal. Helpless, that's what you were. While you sat on the grassy floor with your eyes shut tight and Breidablik in your clenched fist, you longed, prayed, for death to be swift and merciful. You were saved by the skin of your teeth when Zacharias opened the portal back to your friends - back to Alfonse, Sharena, and Anna. 

You thought you were close to death facing off the fiery king Surtr besides Fjorm and the others. While the ice princess held nothing but a cool conviction in her eyes, you were terrified. You stood before a man who fell a country. What's to say he won't - can't - do the same for Askr? To the others? To _you_? At that moment, you felt like a true coward for wanting to run away. Everything seemed like an endless and never forgiving cycle of trying, struggling, and failing of pretending to be something you weren't. 

You could go home. This war wasn't yours to fight, but you couldn't bring yourself to say no when so many others were willing to fight by your side and protect your life at the cost of their own. You felt obligated to help, and you also felt disgusted with yourself with every day that passed with another failed strategy. Alfonse and the others promised it would get easier with time, but you felt the weight of the world weighing heavily on your shoulders. 

While the others stood their ground, calling out orders that would certain reach the hearts of the heroes fighting for you, you could only stand in the back and hide. Breidablik trembled in your unsteady hands as arrows and spells flew too close for comfort. While you were weak, they were strong. You were their Achilles' heel, and the enemies knew that for a fact. You could see the cruel amusement in Loki's eyes as she happened to unleash a spell frightening close to your head, or the sinister smirk on Surtr's face as he watched you shake like a leaf before him. Time and time again, Alfonse would take the blow for you and then unleash his fury on those who stood in his path. Occasionally, Fjorm would gracefully leap into action and put soldiers out of commission before they even got the chance to blink. 

You were tired of being the one that always needed saving. You were tired of the other heroes constantly worrying about you. You were tired of being so  _weak._ Helpless, your mind would echo often when you were alone in the studies late at night to plan for future battles. You disliked being useless; you _hated_ being helpless. You wanted desperately to change, but the moment your eyes would scan the enemy lines, you felt your confidence waver. 

That's until you met him for the first time. 

It was like something out of a fairytale - a blissfully dark and dismal fantasy - and he was the center of it all. He was beautiful and, for the first time, you weren't afraid. 

 

* * *

 

"Kiran, stay behind me. Anna, on guard." 

"Of course, Prince Alfonse."

Alfonse protectively stood in front of you as your shield as Anna held her position from the back. Sharena was beside you with her lance, Fensalir, by her side. An uneasy silence spread over the tense atmosphere. Mist rolled in, creeping around trees and lapping at your ankles from the shadows. All was quiet. Breidablik remained in your grasp if the need arose for you to summon a few heroes to fight on your behalf. The air felt thick with dread and you found it hard to breathe the stiller things grew. 

Then, you heard it. The slight crackle of leaves against the forest floor. The enemy was here. 

Alfonse, Sharena, and Anna sprung to battle immediately, and you summoned a couple heroes of your own. Lyn with her bow and Hector with his axe came to your aid, battling away foes who dared to step too close. The soldiers fell and disappeared in clouds of cremated ash as their dull weapons dropped to the floor with soft thumps. Soon, nothing betrayed their arrival other than the fallen weapons on the floor. When all was said and done, everything returned to as it was. But there was a certain disturbance that you felt prickle your skin; something was wrong. 

Before you pinpoint the cause of your paranoia, a sudden clash of metal on metal surprised you enough to drop Breidablik. The sacred relic disappeared in a pile of leaves, but you didn't even have time to retrieve it as a sudden flash of searing red fire narrowly missed your leg. 

"They're here!" Alfonse shouted in the midst of his battle, sparing a few acknowledging glances to his sister and his commander, who, in turn, sharpened their gazes in recognition of the old order. "Protect Kiran at all costs!"

 

* * *

  

 

_"Protect Kiran at all costs!"_

There it was again. The sickening, swirling fear of being helpless. Only this time, you weren't afraid. You were just tired of being looked down upon. None of your enemies took you seriously, you could tell by the look in their eyes. They only ever looked at you with contempt or they held a smug expression on their face as if they already won. They never won. 

Maybe it was sheer spite that fueled your next actions, but you were sick of it all. Sick of feeling left behind, sick of being looked down upon. You were Askr's summoner, whether you like it or not, and that was a title you've held high responsibility for in your heart. If Alfonse, Sharena, Anna, Fjorm, and all the other heroes you summoned could fight battle after battle, even suffering the crushing effects of losing someone they loved - you could too. After all, you had nothing to lose. 

While everyone was engaged in combat, you took off your cloak for the first time since your arrival to Askr all those months ago. The loose white fabric slipped off your shoulders and folded itself onto the floor. The golden cord that had once held your cloak together dangled from your fingers loosely until, that too, had been left behind on the forest floor. The cloak would only get in your way if you were to fight your own battles from now on. 

No more were the days you would hide behind your cloak and your summoned heroes. You were Kiran, and this was your choice. 

A soft crunching of leaves was the only thing that gave away your cover. The man and Alfonse were engaged in their dance of blades, while Sharena and Anna took care of the mage. This was your only chance. You had an inkling of an idea what kind of danger you were putting yourself in, but the small voice in the back of your mind encouraged you to take the leap. 

The fallen swords were just beyond your reach, you just needed to press a little further - just a little bit more. A sharp gasp escaped your lips when the man's cold red eyes met yours. For a moment, all time seemed to freeze. He was absolutely breathtaking, like a painting in an art museum you couldn't quite seem to place the meaning or the image to. He seemed to be in thought before Alfonse successfully captured his attention once more, swinging a bit too close to the man's neck for comfort. 

You took cover behind the thick brush as you calmed your racing heart. Despite looking at those soulless eyes, you felt a new emotion bubbling in your chest. It was a feeling of bravery because you weren't scared. The moment you saw his eyes, you knew you had nothing to fear. 

The rough leather against your hands felt unnatural and gritty. The haze of ash all around filled your senses as you stood your ground. Closing your eyes, you remembered all the harsh lessons Anna had given you. You remembered the countless of times you fell during practice. You remembered the times you were beaten up so badly you couldn't feel your limbs. That pain was nothing. If you were to lose all your friends now, you would be faced with a pain harsher than even time itself could heal.

All you needed to do was remember your countless training sessions, and the faces of your friends that were depending on you. You were doing this for Askr, for Nifl, and for Embla. Most importantly, you were doing this for your friends and for yourself. 

Your hands no longer trembled. 

Stepping out of the cover the trees and foliage have provided you, you stood your ground in the clearing. Alfonse's eyes met yours and he seemed to be pleading at you to run, to go anywhere but here, but you didn't listen to his pleas this time. In surprise at your defiance and sudden bravado, Alfonse stumbled in his stance. That was his first mistake. His second mistake was switching his focus from the man to you. 

In a speed you couldn't even comprehend, the man slashed Alfonse's arm, causing the prince to drop his sword as he buckled in pain. The man's movements seemed almost robotic (they were almost mesmerizing, you told yourself before chiding yourself for thinking so irrationally at this time). He raised his sword over the fallen prince, prepared to deal the finishing blow, when you had finally found your voice. 

"Stop!" to your surprise, the man did just that. He turned to face you, his face ever unchanging. You swallowed your nerves as you felt your hands grow clammy once more, only it wasn't from fear. "It's me you want, isn't it?"

"Kiran, no." Alfonse grit out through the pain, "Askr needs it's summoner. We can't lose you." 

"Askr needs it's future king more than it needs me," you ruefully spat, spite momentarily rendering you unable to think properly. You regretted it moments later when you saw the crestfallen expression on Alfonse's face, before your voice softened just slightly, "You know that you can't afford to die here, Alfonse. But me? I think it's been too long for me to sit on the sidelines and just watch."

The man impatiently lift his sword higher, prepared to swing down on Alfonse, while the prince could only grit his teeth in frustration for being so powerless at a time like this. You found it almost ironic - just almost. 

"Enough," you called to him, as if you were the one truly in control of the situation here, "if you want me, then you're going to have to get me first."

His arm lowered just slightly, before he drew his sword completely to his side and away from Alfonse. He slowly turned so that he was facing you, and you got to see him clearly. He almost completely covered in obsidian-black armor that was accented by purple stripes and a certain blue glow he gave off. He easily bested you in height, and his red eyes seem to bore into yours with an expression almost akin to amusement. Suddenly, you realized why you weren't as afraid as you had been when you had fought all those others before. He looked strikingly similar to Alfonse. Although his blue hair was styled differently and the gold tips were faded to an ashy grey, you could see the resemblance he held to your friend. 

A name whispered in the back of your mind. You knew this man, but at the same time, you didn't know him. Alfonse would often talk about him sometimes. His name would be occasionally displayed in historical literature. He was the first king of Askr; his name was Líf. 

Breidablik long forgotten, you held your stance with a new sense of purpose. Hel was behind this, you were sure of it. The sooner your freed Líf, you were one step closer to maintaining the peace your friends have been longing for. You took off with a running start, leaves fluttering in your wake; if he was fast, you just had to be faster. 

"Let's dance," you grinned, your hold tightening on the sword, "Líf."

**Author's Note:**

> i think the moment i saw lif on feh channel, i might've cried  
> he's beautiful. and that's all i can say,  
> this is not proofread and i apologize in advance for typos and general errors


End file.
